


Everything Stays

by sugarboat



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: M/M, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Tentacle Sex, with a light side of feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2016-07-29
Packaged: 2018-07-27 13:49:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7620766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugarboat/pseuds/sugarboat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Only one of them sees the inevitable end approaching.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everything Stays

Ford’s mindscape was calm, and utterly dominated by the monolithic version of their portal his mind had created. The star studded night sky was still a governing feature of the human’s mental playground, but now the steady thrumming of the portal filled the air constantly, the light radiating from the machine surging in pulses like a heartbeat. Bill had begun to appear more and more frequently as their work had progressed. As the completion date drew closer, it had become a nightly occurrence – the muse would be there as soon as his eyes slipped shut, and although their time spent together wasn’t something Ford would describe as restful, he never felt more alive than when he woke from his shared dreams.

This night was proving to be no different. Dark, smoky, dripping tendrils were wound around his legs, their surface slick and shifting like an oil spill. Eyes and mouths would form at seemingly random, peering at him, grinning at him, snaking out a tongue and licking against his clothed skin. The sensations felt so real, it was sometimes difficult to remember he was asleep. It was also vaguely unnerving and definitely unsettling. The slit-pupiled gaze of his muse was familiar though, in whatever form the normally yellow creature chose to take.

They had been talking about something – equations, techniques, endless checking and rechecking of their work – but Ford’s mind had drifted. When his hands came close to the strange tentacles that were slowly climbing his legs, he had discovered, thin shoots would pull themselves out of the black mass, twining through the air like vines. He had made a game at first of drawing his fingers away before the tendrils could attach, watching as they sank back into the darkness they had hauled themselves out of or dissipated into swirls of smoke. But he had grown more curious, as he always did, and allowed one to latch onto his finger.

When he brought his hand closer to his face to examine it more thoroughly, the small tendril had broken free completely from its larger twins. Ford had expected it to expire as the other projections had, but it had just continued to wind around his fingers, apparently propagating itself. Fascinating. Was Bill consciously controlling it? His eyes flicked guiltily upwards to the air, where long lines of glowing numbers and letters were still flickering and changing rapidly as Bill ran through their work, making tiny adjustments here and there and reverting them just as quickly. He really should be paying closer attention, couldn’t deny that he was awed at the speed with which Bill could shuffle through endless calculations, but the inky blackness was coiling around his wrist now, and seemed to show no signs of stopping.

In fact, as it curled further up his arm, it appeared to be growing faster, though it didn’t seem to be sprouting the eyes and mouths the larger versions sported. He twisted his arm this way and that, admiring the bands of winding colors that appeared and reappeared as the light bounced off the tendril’s surface. It felt cool and slick against his arm, but it didn’t leave any substance behind as it roved across his skin. Ford briefly squeezed his fist, finding the dark material surprisingly firm between his fingers, against his palm, and suddenly the world went completely dark.

His whole body jerked, but he could still feel the small tentacle tangling itself around his arm, and from the resistance he felt against his kicking legs, the others must be there as well. A huge eye opened in front of him, gold cut with a thin black strip, the only source of light, and it narrowed. _Narrowed, not curved. Oh boy._ He gave Bill what he hoped was a sheepish grin, hand automatically moving to scratch the back of his neck in embarrassment. It wasn’t until his fingers were brushing the skin of neck that Ford realized he’d used the hand covered in living darkness, and he cringed as he felt tendrils raise themselves off from their brethren to begin winding around his throat.

“Am I DISTRACTING YOU, SIXER?” Bill asked, voice echoing from every direction. 

“N-No! I mean, well, yes, my attention may have wandered…” May have. Even now, Ford was slightly preoccupied with the things coiling around him, had hurriedly jerked his hand down and was now debating trying to rip them off his neck with his unbound hand. Bill typically had patience for the human – it must be vast as an ocean, as he watched Ford struggle with alien concepts and mathematics – but Ford was certain it had to have a limit, and practically ignoring his muse while he worked so diligently on their portal was probably pushing it. He prepared himself for a scolding, for disappointment that would chill him to the bone, but instead the eye curved up in a smile.

“COURSE IT DID! I should have KNOWN better!” Ford let out a breath he hadn’t been aware he was holding. The eye abruptly closed but there was now a subtle light infusing the… wherever he was, without an obvious source. 

“Bill, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“NAH, don’t SWEAT IT, why don’t we just TAKE A BREAK? You’ve been working ROUND THE CLOCK for the past FEW WEEKS!” Ford found himself smiling, thanking whatever – luck or fate – had brought he and his muse together. How would he have ever been able to guess that his journeys in Gravity Falls would lead him to such a kind, knowing creature? “BESIDES, if any of the EQUATIONS were WRONG I guess it’s TOO LATE NOW! The only thing LEFT to DO is POWER THAT BABY UP!” 

There was suddenly a chill on his skin, and instead of the damp and slightly itchy sensation of the tentacles dragging across his clothing, there was the slick and sliding feeling of them tracing along his flesh directly. Ford’s breath seemed to catch in his throat as he glanced down at himself, a furious blush from his collarbones to his ears erupting as he found himself naked. His face only grew hotter as he heard Bill laughing. It was hardly the first time his muse had seen him in such a state, but as always both pleasure and anxiety were curling heavy in the pit of his stomach.

“Hey, Fordsy, RELAX – this is supposed to be a BREAK! A PRESENT, even, for a JOB WELL DONE!” The tendrils around his arm had made their way up to his deltoid muscle, and they squeezed his entire arm in rhythmic pulses. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest, in the column of his throat where a collar of darkness constricted tightly, just this side of uncomfortable. He swallowed, feeling the tentacles press against his Adam’s apple as it bobbed up and down. His head buzzed with the pleasure of Bill’s compliment.

As if some decision had been reached, the dark limbs around his legs suddenly writhed into motion, coiling upwards, wrapping around his thighs, his hips, slipping in between them. Ford shivered, a chill running up his spine. All at once, he felt the surface of the tentacles against him warp, mouths opening against his skin, licking and biting at him, dragging a startled gasp from the man. He felt his cock twitch, growing heavy, and as though the slight motion was enough to draw attention, thin, slick tendrils began to twine around him. Ford groaned, the sound choked off as the collar at his neck tightened, cut off his air supply entirely for an exaggerated moment and released again. 

“I knew you could do it, IQ.” Bill’s voice again, lower than usual and sending shudders through his body. “You’re the only one who could.”

Ford was fully hard now, eyes closed and panting as black tentacles slithered up and down his length, hips twitching fitfully. It felt as though the limbs were all around him now, touching every inch of his body, opening when he least expected them to bite and suck at his feverish skin. Even the one looping around his neck would nip along the sides, licking at the junction of his jaw, squeezing painfully tight and making him lightheaded with both arousal and air loss. When he opened his eyes again, the sky was dotted with Bill’s eyes, each of them trained on Ford, drinking in his reactions, and the human moaned aloud at the thought that such a being’s attention was fixated solely on himself, was as enamored with him as he with it. 

“B-Bill…” he murmured, wishing he could touch his muse as well. Bill chuckled, and Ford felt the smooth end of a tentacle teasing against his entrance.

“You want my attention, don’t you?” All of the tendrils squeezed tighter, around his limbs, around his cock, around throat. “But you already have it, always have it – how could I ignore such a brilliant mind, the only worthy one of its generation?” 

The tentacle thrust inside him, the one at his throat slackening to allow broken groans to slip out unrestricted through his lips, the sounds almost constant now. It began gently, stretching Ford on its length, driving deeper and deeper with each insertion, purposefully brushing against his prostate, teasingly light. The ones circling his cock twisted, their pace constantly changing to keep him on edge, slowing every time Ford thought the sweet tension in his body was about to be relieved. And his mind replayed Bill’s words over and over, praises new and old alike swimming in his thoughts.

_Brilliant. IQ. Genius. Only you._

The movement around, inside his body came to a slow halt, and Ford’s eyes blearily opened. Why had he stopped? His limbs were shaking, hot and drenched in sweat, and his hips jerked almost uncontrollably, desperately trying to grind back on the length that remained stubbornly unmoving, frustratingly close. Bill finally appeared in his triangular form, eye crinkled with a pleased smile, and he reached out to grab Ford by the chin, his other hand combing through the human’s damp hair.

“Bill, please,” Ford panted. He tried to lift his hands up to pull his muse closer, but he founds his movements restricted by the tentacles.

“You want to come already, is that it?” Something like excited dread pooled in his stomach. Bill had played games like this with him before, goading him to the absolute brink and then dragging him back down, toying with him for what felt like an eternity. He seemed to enjoy making Ford lose control, lose himself in frustration, in need. Ford wasn’t sure he wanted to play right now; Bill just shrugged. “Suit yourself! This is YOUR gift, after all!” 

The creature swapped his eye for a mouth, blew a kiss at the bound man, but Ford surged forward, captured Bill’s lips with his own. It was weird, it was creepy, it was only distantly similar to kissing another human. As everything with his muse was, it was a unique experience that Ford had found himself shocked (perhaps embarrassed) to enjoy, the crackling heat of Bill’s flesh against his lips, in his mouth, a slick tongue entering him, long – too long – and curling around his own, and sometimes down his throat. Everything else finally started moving again, faster, almost frenzied, had him moaning against his muse, against electric heat that begged to burn him. 

The tentacle slammed hard inside him, bordering on painful, and Ford came with a muffled cry, Bill pulling away from him. It kept moving inside him, his body wracked with shivers of overstimulation, and the tendrils around his dick milked him dry, until he was almost whimpering, pleading wordlessly for it to stop. He hung limply, chest heaving as he tried to recover. The black limbs withdrew carefully, their tips tracing invisible patterns along his skin as they retreated, until there was nothing but a net gently supporting him. Bill was dragging his claws against his scalp, backwards and forwards, and Ford floated, relaxed, enjoyed the quiet blankness of his mind for a while.

“One day SOON we’ll be able to do this with your BODY, Fordsy! If you think THIS is blowing your mind, just WAIT!” Ford couldn’t help but think the pun was intentional, and he opened his eyes to smile at his grinning muse. The human reached out to pull gently at the triangle, gratified when Bill docilely followed his direction, settling against Ford’s chest.

“What do _you_ want do to when our portal is open?” Bill looked at him blankly. “I mean, you’ll have a whole new dimension to explore, you’ll be able to meet Fiddleford and so many others – you won’t be stuck with me anymore.” Something ugly was twisting around in his stomach now, at the thought of Bill being cooed and awed over by others, as they were bound to do once the muse had come into his dimension. Ford had looked away from Bill while he spoke, but he dared a glance, surprised to find such an unreadable expression on the usually animated creature. A moment later, it seemed that Bill snapped out of whatever funk he’d briefly been in.

“Aw, you can’t get rid of me THAT EASILY, Sixer! ‘Til the END of TIME, right pal?” Ford felt some unnamed tension drain away, and he settled back against the hammock-like net, closing his eyes again.

“’Til the end of time.”


End file.
